


Super Bass

by Azazel



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Red Robin (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Dirty Dancing, Jason POV, M/M, Oral Sex, POV First Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-18 00:37:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5891263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azazel/pseuds/Azazel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason just wants to hang out after patrol. But Tim can dance like a stripper. So plans change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Super Bass

**Author's Note:**

> It's so late I didn't even proofread this. I'm sorry I just wanted to get it posted. So if you come across anything that needs fixing please let me know. Also yes Super Bass like the Nicki Minaj song. In my head I could see Tim dancing to that song. It was nice.

Hanging out after patrol hasn’t become a tradition yet but I’m hoping it will, which is why I’m on my way to Tim’s place. It’s a little strange running rooftops in civvies but Dick must be rubbing off on me because I just can’t see myself taking the sidewalk. Thankfully the rain stopped about an hour ago so I just have to deal with slick gravel, glass and steel instead of getting drenched. It’s not far from my place to the safe house he using tonight, though, and that’s great ‘cause I’m bushed. I’m ready to veg out on the couch and watch old Star Trek reruns. But, as the thirty foot long bank of windows overlooking his kitchen/living area comes into view I’m thinking maybe I should have called first. 

Of the boys formerly known as “Wonder” Tim is, I would say, the most reserved. Don’t get me wrong the boy can cut lose when he needs to, but as a rule, he’s more straight laced than me and Dickie. Right now being a very obvious exception to that rule. I’ve seen him do some pretty incredible stuff with his little body but I have _never_ seen him move the way he is moving. And if someone had said to me Tim could bend, flex, shimmy and grind the way he is now I would have laughed so hard I probably would have hurt myself. I can’t hear the music through the glass but it must be something truly filthy to get him doing _that_ to the barstool in his kitchen. In his underwear no less. It’s like I don’t know this kid at all sometimes. I’m not complaining, though. Not when I get surprises like this one. 

Shifting my weight slightly I slip a little more into the shadows. I feel a bit like a creeper but I don’t want the show to end and I get the feeling if he saw me it would come to an abrupt stop. His lips are moving, shaping what I can only guess are the words to whatever song is playing. I have to adjust myself in my jeans when he drops to his knees and rolls his hips, arching his back and pushing the bulge of his cock into the air. His hands glide across his chest and stomach barely touching and in that moment I want nothing more than to do the same. He leans back until his head and shoulders are on the floor with his knees spread wide and I have a stray thought about how much of a stretch that is before my attention is yanked back to what his hands are doing. 

Both hands smooth over the front of his boxer-briefs then slide inwards just behind his balls, thumbs pressed to the base of his cock. The beat of the song must have picked up right then because his hips start to bounce in a quick rhythm then slow down to roll slow and deep. Suddenly his palms snap to the floor and his knees come up, balancing his weight on the balls of his feet. His hips seem like they move independent from the rest of his body as they curl and swivel. He was sporting a bit of a chub when he was touching himself a few seconds ago but now with his thighs squeezing together and splaying wide I can see his cock swelling until it tents the front of his sleek shorts. His skin is shiny with fresh sweat and his eyes are closed now so I feel a little safer moving out of the shadows. Besides I don’t think he’ll notice me anyway. He seems pretty absorbed in what he’s doing. 

Then the song must change ‘cause quick as a blink he bounces up and over to his hands and knees, arching his back until his ass is pushed high into the air. The way he wiggles and thrusts? I’m pretty much positive this boy is not only a bottom but an _enthusiastic_ bottom. And what I wouldn’t give to find out first hand. I mean, I have to admit the kid’s hot. I let out an involuntary sound when his hands slide forward, laying him out against the floor on his stomach. From where I’m standing I have a killer view of his ass and thighs while he grinds against the hardwood. A few moments of watching as he pretends to fuck the floor of his apartment is about all I can take before I’m moving to slip inside through one of the huge windows. 

The bass of some pop song is splitting the air but I must make some kind of sound Tim can hear over all that. I have to admit the “thunk” of the blade he just hurled at my head hitting the bookshelf about two inches from my face is strangely loud in my ears. It’s easy to tell he uses this place often. Every inch of it committed to memory. Otherwise it might have taken more than a fraction of a second to move from where he was spread on the floor to the hidden weapons cache under the counter in the kitchen. His eyes are huge as they settle on me. I have both hands out, palms up and I don’t move until he glares at me. 

“Jason?!” I can practically _see_ the adrenaline jamming through his veins right now. I can’t help the slow easy smirk that smooths across my face, though.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account. Looked like you were just gettin’ to the good stuff.” His cheeks flare red and his eyes go narrow, angry. He seems to sort of… draw in on himself then. Embarrassed maybe? I can’t see why he should be. Hell, Dick would probably be jealous of the way he was moving. I know I am. He shifts his weight and pushes away from the counter, hands clenched at his sides. Thankfully this isn’t one of his bigger safe houses so it only takes me a few steps to be standing in front of him. 

A muscle in his throat jumps as I get closer but he doesn’t move to defend himself. Glancing down I see he’s still at about half mast. The rush of adrenaline I’m guessing. Won’t let him go completely limp yet. Which works to my advantage because I have a strong desire to know just how he tastes, what the weight of his cock on my tongue feels like. I’m nearly crowding him against the counter but he won’t back down. Not that he has many places to go but still. Of course my mouth chooses that moment to let out, “I’m serious. That was hot.”

At first he just scowls, then he rolls his eyes and looks away. His voice is as flat as his expression when he says, “Very funny.”

I snatch his right wrist and press it to the front of my jeans where my cock is obviously hard. His entire body tenses as I cage him in a little more and lean down to growl, “Does that feel like I’m joking? ‘Cause I’m really not. And if you’ll let me I’ll get on my knees right now to prove it. If not, well I can’t say I won’t be disappointed, but we can still order bad take out and watch even worse TV.”

Taking a step back I let his wrist go. His eyes flick up to mine, running over my face. Looking for the lie I guess. There isn’t one for him to find so I just wait. The little wet spot on the inside of my underwear is uncomfortable but if he says “no” I’m not gonna push things. 

“You want to-?” The question trails off and he raises an eyebrow.

“Suck you off. Yes,” I answer without hesitation. He looks away again but this time it looks like he’s considering his options. I wait and I watch. It doesn’t take long. He turns back to me and nods. I don’t waste any time dropping to my knees. He lets out this tiny gasp and grips the counter to either side of his hips. He hasn’t showered yet so he still smells a bit like the Red Robin uniform but the dancing he was doing layers fresh sweat over the Kevlar. His abs clench when I lean in and kiss his stomach just below his bellybutton. My hands glide up his legs, smoothing over the curves of soft skin and hard muscle, to settle on his hips. I curl my fingers into the band of his shorts and pull until I can slip it behind his balls. He’s not totally hard yet but I can fix that. 

I fit my mouth over his entire length, swallowing until my nose is buried in the dark curls at the base of his cock and his balls are shoved against my chin by the elastic of his underwear. He makes a choking sound above me. I can feel his shaft swell on my tongue and I swallow again, pulling the head of his dick into my throat. As much as I’d like to savor this and make it last I really don’t have the patience. Bracing one hand on his thigh I pull back and start to bob my head. His knees are trembling already so I move faster, only pausing occasionally to flick my tongue over the tip or nip at the crown. It’s hard to hear all of the little noises he’s making over the music still playing but when I look up he’s chewing on his bottom lip, his eyes glassy and wide as they watch me. I reach up to cradle his sac with my free hand, squeezing in time with the bass of the music.

My jaw aches and my lips have gone numb but it doesn’t matter. The song changes to something a little angrier and a lot filthier. His knuckles are white where they wrap around the tile counter. I pull back one more time, opening my mouth wide, letting the tip of his cock rest on my bottom lip and the edges of my teeth. He nearly sobs when my tongue slithers over tight, flushed skin. I wink up at him and his eyes fly wider. I don’t give him a chance to prepare before I slap his sac. I’m pretty sure if he had neighbors they would hear the sound he makes as he cums. His cock jerks and sprays my cheek but most of his spunk lands on my tongue. I press my lips together and suckle his tip until he whimpers and twitches his hips away. 

My right knee pops when I stand up. He looks wrecked. His hand is trembling when he reaches for my jacket. My jeans are more than uncomfortable now. I think the wet spot has become more of a wet patch. It certainly feels like it. His fingers trail down to my belt buckle and I have to admit I’m surprised he has the coordination required to get it open. He fumbles a bit more with the button and zipper, though, so my pride isn’t too damaged. 

And speaking of pride, I might be a bit embarrassed by the fact that it takes him all of thirty seconds to get me off by rubbing his thumb over the spot just under the head of my cock, but I’m really not. What’s the point of being embarrassed when it’s my cum soaking into the fabric of his underwear? 

“So. What do you say we get cleaned up and order some Chinese?” My voice is remarkably steady, if a bit rough. His shoulders shake and for a second I think I said the wrong thing. It isn’t until I can hear him laughing that I relax.


End file.
